From Newsgroup: rec.arts.comics.creative

--0000000000001e265c063d22faba
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="UTF-8"

And we're back in the past and can check the eyrie archive
once again.


Here's where you can find this and more NTB One Shots:

https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/ntb/One.Shots/



And it's the last part of The Wrath of The Administrator.
Epilogue by Various.
And An Apocryphal Tale by Christopher "Elric" Tong


And with The Office finally defeated can all our heroes
go back to doing what they do best (like using their
friends as human shields, exorcisms that go horribly
wrong, giving people second hand lung cancer)?!

Or is their still some UNFINISHED BUSINESS?!!!!!!!


Find out in...







C L A S S I C

N E T T R E N C H C O A T B R I G A D E

A D V E N T U R E S #385



=====================
W R A T H O F T H E A D M I N I S T R A T O R
The Epilogue
=====================








Article 1459 of alt.comics.lnh:
Path: warwick!warwick!not-for-mail
From: enubf@csv.warwick.ac.uk (Mr P R Hardy)
Newsgroups: alt.comics.lnh,rec.arts.comics.misc
Subject: NTB: Wrath of the Administrator TEB Epilogue
Date: 3 Jun 1993 16:52:08 +0100
Organization: Computing Services, University of Warwick, UK
Lines: 613
Distribution: world
Message-ID: <1ul6n8INNg21@cumin.csv.warwick.ac.uk>
NNTP-Posting-Host: cumin.csv.warwick.ac.uk
Xref: warwick alt.comics.lnh:1459 rec.arts.comics.misc:26326


N E T T R E N C H C O A T B R I G A D E
<*>
W R A T H O F T H E A D M I N I S T R A T O R
------------------------------------------------



E P I L O G U E
----------------------


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was morning in alt.cynosure. Sweet, cynical alt.cynosure. Where
the
Internet meets when it`s really depressed. The Net.Trenchcoat.Brigade, more
or
less intact after having been trapped in Chicago for some time, travelled
from the better-known networks to the lurching back-alley that was alt.cynosure, led by the erratic and annoyed GrimSloth.
"Free drinks," he moaned. He`d been moaning that for some time now.
"Cheer up. Could be worse," said John Constantine with a grin that suggested a certain cynical enjoyment of the situation. "Could be two free drinks."
"Don`t even talk about it! The last time I did free drinks..." He stopped, considered, went on: "I`ve never done free drinks! Can you imagine what this is going to cost me?" He stepped over time, kicked an unruly wall, and fished out his keys.
"Do you always kick walls?" asked Elric.
"It isn`t a wall. Kick it yourself." Elric gingerly poked it. It growled at him sheepishly.
"Ah. What was that about free drinks?"
GrimSloth grimaced, found the right key and thrust it into the lock of
Munden`s Bar. The door creaked open, and an array of Trenchcoats wandered inside, and started looking for the best parts of the bar to annoy Grim at.
"No bloody staff... where are they?" grumbled GrimSloth, and rushed upstairs to see if any of them were on the premises. There were strange
noises.
LJC found the lights and started taking chairs down from tables. Withnail surveyed the bar, but more importantly the pumps, lined up in dozens, each
with a familiar and heartwarming name.
"Bishop`s Finger... Old Original... Sarah Hughes` Mild... Old Peculier... christ, even Roger and Owt on tap... how the hell did he manage this? And why didn`t anyone tell me about it?"
"Hmph. Have a look at the ciders," advised LJC.
"Or the brandies," said the Question.
"Or the wines," added Bacchus.
"Or the whiskies," said Mouse. GrimSloth, after several
shouted curses could be heard from upstairs, came down.
"You`ll have to help yourselves. All the staff are asleep and I couldn`t bribe any of them to come down and serve you." He grabbed a
bottle of Glenfiddich for himself. "Go on, have what you like. we`re still
in
deep shit and I suppose some lubricants`ll help us work out what to do." Various people raided the bar. Withnail emerged with a pint of Bishop`s
Finger
and a bottle of whisky of an age that had surprised even him. Kid Anarky
poured himself a large glass of vodka, added some orange juice, and prepared for an easier way out of this situation. LJC found a dozen or so bottles of rare cider, as Bacchus extolled the virtues of half-a-dozen wines, most of which were of finer pedigree than an average Royal family. Chairs and tables were pulled together for a serious conference on deeply worrying matters, tables which were quickly piled high with enough alcohol to floor a bull elephant on drugs. The Brigade seated themselves, and LJC groaned to herself
as she realised she was going to have to organise the buggers.
"Okay," She said, opening a bottle of cider that had been in Taunton only the week before. "The Universal Office is still out there. We`ve still
got to do something about it."
"Why us?" asked Hob Gadling.
"Because there`s no one else. His friends"- gesturing at Kid Anarky- "are probably as deep in shit as anyone else. The fact that it`s still
going on means that all the occult organisations are either subverted or
have
failed to get anywhere. The rest of the NTB is probably lost." The drinkers took this in. They didn`t like it. But there didn`t seem to be much option.
"So what can we do?" asked Kid Anarky.
"All sorts of things," said John Constantine. "We`ve got a lot of
power between us. But we`ve got to take out the centre of it- the office."
"Fine, but where is it?" asked Some Irish Guy.
"There`s your problem. As far as I know, it can be at any University campus it likes," said Withnail.
"Damn. Pity Ramaj isn`t here. He knows about room dimensions." said GrimSloth.
"So throwing in something we summoned won`t work. We have to know
where it is, first," said LJC.
"Might not work even then. We don`t know Hell`s position on all of this." said Mouse.
"Bugger." Said Withnail, and drank deeply. The door opened, and Dr.
13
entered cloaked in an attitude that bespoke a certain smugness.
"Hello, everybody. Sorry I couldn`t make it earlier."
"Where the sodding hell have you been?" stormed Withnail.
"Oh, just ending all this mess and saving the world. Who do you
think
got rid of the administrator and found Xeroxes to destroy the office? I`d
much rather have spent my time in a pub. Mine`s a pint of bitter, GrimSloth.
I heard you were buying."
"You- you- GIT!!!!" shouted Withnail, expressing the main feelings
of
the trenchcoaters at this point. Faces glowered.
LJC sighed, and considered drinking. "Go on, then. What`s the
story?"
13 grinned and started talking.

*******************************************************************************

Time passed, in as strange a manner as it dared...

*******************************************************************************

The Question sullenly poured himself another brandy. His scowl was nearly hidden in the shadows produced by his oversized fedora, but his tone
of voice was plain enough to those nearby. "Perdition! I was so close to catching up to him! If they stayed in one place for more than ten
minutes..."
Withnail sighed. He'd heard this several times so far that evening.
"If I were you," he started for the third time that night, "I'd
have
sorted this whole thing out ages ago. What was it he took again?"
The Question glared at him. "The Eye of Abraham. A scrying
device.
Actually, a very powerful scrying device. And I would have 'sorted it out' ages ago my own self had I been around to do so. What does one have to do around here to find some Chateau Noir '46?"
"Ask. GrimSlut's got a pretty good selection. What do you mean,
off-
plane? I didn't hear about it..." Withnail reached behind the counter and pulled out a dusty bottle. "Still in its gold foil wrapping."
"THE NAME IS SLOTH!!! GRIM_SLOTH_!! Does nobody get that right?"
came
from across the bar. Withnail and the Question ignored it.
"Many thanks. I was in Delirium's realm for a year or thereabouts.
One loses track of time rather easily there--what with her sundial being
broken
and everything. I was gaining insight." The Question poured a careful glassful of the old wine. "1846 was a very good year for the Noir
vineyards."
"Say, could I have a hit of that stuff?" ThingFish asked, leaning
over
and breathing heavily into the Question's glass. The Question winced and
gave
the glass to him and turned slightly away. ThingFish downed it in one gulp, belched mightily, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Not bad, but I
think
that Sam Adams is better." He wandered off to find some used toothpicks.
"Do you smell chitlins?" the Question asked.
"Yes. Could you move your dog? He's lying on my feet and sort of growling," Withnail replied, shifting on his barstool.
"Sid, move yourself or get small or something, huh?" The dog-shaped thing picked itself up and stood on its hind legs at the bar. Withnail
slid
a whiskey down to him, which Obsidian lapped up in short order. He then
bit
down on the glass and swallowed it.
"Anyway, I made my way to Chicago so that I could catch up with him, and after running into Lady Johanna, and getting tossed into the
Adminiverse,
and losing track of everything, I look around...just about every single
NTB'er
lying around the bar and no Ramaj."
"I knew the last bit; I was there," put in Withnail. "So why don't
you
just start looking for him again? As I recall, you've never had a problem
with
finding anything out... Bacchus, move your lazy arse off your seat, will
you?
You're in my way." Bacchus looked at him and sat down more firmly on his stool, conjuring a full pitcher of sweet wine in front of him. It drained itself as Withnail glared at him. "Lazy pisshead."
"I've tried. He's cloaked himself pretty damned well. He could
only
do that if he'd found...a...void..." the Question trailed off. Nightshard
was
pulling on him. He glanced around to see Obsidian worrying Yo-Yo in the corner. "Sid...get over here now," he snapped. Obsidian moved over,
snapping
his white teeth at Yo-Yo as he did. Nightshard was still pulling, but it didn't seem to know which way it wanted to go. The Question recognized the possibility of imminent danger and decided to check.
"Your trenchcoat acting up?" Dr. Thirteen asked, having seen it
twitch
from where he had been sitting. "Mine's recently been annoying me, too."
"I resent that," interjected Toni. "I'm very helpful to you because you don't know squat about anything and it's lucky for you that I joined
into
your coat, because you'd be dead or worse and I'm still trying to get out of this dumb thing. Brown is simply not my colour."
"See? Just ignore it--that's what I'm trying to do," said Dr. Thirteen, looking interestedly down at Obsidian. "Is that a..."
"I think so, yes. Don't stand too close to it. If you'll pardon
me,
Doctor, I'm trying to divine what's wrong with Nightshard. No one would
happen
to have some blue crystalline salt, would they? I'm fresh out."
"How about this stuff we use to clean liquids off the floor? It's
some sort of salt, I think," said GrimSloth, rummaging below the counter and thumping a bag of it on the bar.
"That should do nicely. Thanks, GrimSloth."
"That's GrimS...uh. Forget it."
The Question poured a pile of the blue salt stuff on the bar and
used
an ivory stiletto to stir it around. The patterns were unclear. He frowned.
Suddenly, the air shattered and the door flew open, to reveal a tall man dressed in black. "Once, I would have sat amongst you and partaken in
the
revelry, spoken at length on the horrors we face, but now I must remain..."
Everyone in the bar whirled around and finished, "A STRANGER. WE KNOW!"
The Dvandom Stranger sighed. He almost never got to finish that
line.
"I bring to you this evening...an ending--or perhaps a new beginning. Many
are
the paths that will be opened by tonight's events. Beyond, possibly, even
the
reaches of the Administrator's wrath. But I cannot speak any further on
this.
Instead, I shall leave my unwilling travellers and depart once again, to
walk
this sad .net as..."
"Yeah, yeah, as a stranger. Get a new spiel, for christ`s sake," Withnail replied. "So where's your passengers? They might as well pull up a chair."
The Dvandom Stranger allowed himself a slight smile. It hurt a
little,
and he decided not to try that again anytime soon. "They are...here." He pulled his trenchcoat aside to reveal Ramaj Singh, looking worried, and
Deft,
looking vaguely at the walls and swinging Ol' Bart absently. The assembled
NTB
turned as one to look at the Question.
He smiled slightly and drained his wineglass. "Welcome to
Munden's,
gentlemen." The Question crossed the bar, Obsidian at his heels.
"GrimSloth,
would you have a quiet corner table--somewhere out of the way--where I
could
have a little chat with my old friend Ramaj?"
GrimSloth pointed to one. The Question walked Ramaj and Deft over
to
it. Obsidian slunk over to the bar again and bit off the top of a whiskey bottle, then started to drink it awkwardly.
"Ramaj. You're a tough person to find. How've you been these past couple of years?"
"Little of this, little of that...you know how it goes," replied
Ramaj. He wasn't quite sure what the Question was up to, but if _he_ wasn't going to mention the Eye, he'd be damned if he was going to bring it up.
"Yes, I think I do. Who's your friend?"
"This is Deft. He's sort of my partner."
"Splendid. Now we've gotten the niceties out of the way, we can get down to business. Where is the Eye?" the Question hissed, flexing his
gloved
knuckles. Nightshard shivered slightly.
"I haven't got it. It was stolen."
"Why don't I believe you? You're a professional liar and thief--one would think that any good thief would know how to keep something from being stolen. Especially something like the Eye."
"Nonetheless, it was stolen. It vanished from my void floor two-odd years ago. I'm surprised that you weren't aware of it."
"I've been busy," the Question snapped. "And I still don't believe you. Who could have stolen it from a void? No one who would want it,
that's
for sure."
"I was wondering that myself. But I assure you, I haven't got it."

The Question stood up. "You wouldn't be stupid enough to bring it everywhere with you, but you of course won't mind if I just check your
pockets,
will you? I thought not." He hoisted Ramaj up by his lapels, out of his
seat, and reached in his trenchcoat pockets, dumping the contents on the
table. "A Rolodex...? This is a whole lot more convincing than you are, actually. So providing that I do believe you--which I really don't think I should--how do you propose to return my property to me?"
"Three can hunt for something as easily as one," Ramaj started.
"And more efficiently, too," put in Deft.
"Yes, more efficiently, too. Perhaps we could help you search for
it?
It would, perhaps, in some small way, recompensence for borrowing it from
you
in the first place?"
"Stealing it, you mean. I could be doing worse things with my
time--
such as looking for you again. So where do we start?"
"I was hoping you would ask that. How about at the scene of the
crime:
San Fransisco?"
"At your expense, sure. I've not got enough cash on me to bribe
Sid's
way onto another airplane. And Ramaj...?"
"What?"
"If this turns out to be some sort of con, they won't be able to
find
enough of you to fill an ashtray."
"Not to worry, Question."
"I think I'd prefer it if you were worried, Ramaj. Come on,
Obsidian,
we're headed to San Fransisco--first class."
The four exited the bar, leaving the rest of the NTB slightly
confused
in their wake...

*******************************************************************************

Thingfish noticed LJC sitting at a corner table already littered
with empty bottles. She looked up and glared at him, and he jumped back,
wary. Then she began to laugh.

"I'm going to be leaving now." She announced to the rest of Mundens, who stopped their conversations just long enough to see the *very* drunk Constantine manage to nick three bottles from the table. The sound
of breaking glass was very loud in the sudden silence. "Y'see," she took
a swig from a half-empty cider bottle, "Kit's an ex-Kit now, and I don't
think I'll be seeing him for a while..." She picked up the trenchcoat
from where it lay at the foot of the coatrack. "I think it's about
time I got out of Chicago anyway."

"You're all bloody bastards." She called from the doorway,
laughing again. "Whole NTB was a bad idea...." she stumbled down the
street, and the rest of the trenchcoaters shrugged, and continued with
their respective arguments and discussions.

LJ decided, as she made her way towards Callahans (she still wasn't
finished drinking. She could still stand. That was a sure sign there
was more drinking to be done.) that maybe she would pay a visit to old
Charles in Andover. Nothing bad ever happened there. Maybe she could
take an old-fashioned holiday. No 'coats. No magic. Lots of drink.
That was beginning to sound like a very good ldea....

After all, the Office and all were taken care of, what could go wrong
*now*?

*******************************************************************************

A jagged streak of blinding white tore through the darkness after an
eternity of nothing. Shade felt himself falling sideways-up, or at least
that is what it seemed like, as he had long since lost all sense of
direction. The floor was hard and cold as it raced to greet his face, and
the whole room swirled about. Focus returned to Shade like the snap of
the hangman's noose.

He did not seem to be in any office, universal or otherwise. He was, in
fact, on the floor of somebody's kitchen. At least, it looked like a
kitchen; there was the refrigerator, the oven, the dishwasher, the confused-looking man holding a boning knife in one hand and an envelope in
the other, the dishwasher, and the cabinets. Oh yeah, and the sink; I
almost forgot to through in the kitchen sink.

"Who the HELL are YOU?" The kitchen man pointed an inquisitive knife in Shade's direction.

Shade looked bemused at the man, who reared to an imposing five-foot-six,
his white Fruit-of-the-Loom undershirt straining against the bulging
stains under his arms. "Shade. And, uh, who are YOU?" Shade swung his
legs under him and began to stand up.

"I'm General Post-Masters, dutiful ally of the Netromancer, comrade of Burak-Racey, brother-in-arms to Muzak Master, answerable only to the
Universal Office itself!" Gen. PM snapped his heals together and came to
rigid attention.

"Great! I need to see the Universal Office. It's a matter of some
urgency. I have some forms which need its immediate approval" Shade was
now on his feet dusting off his trenchcoat. Maybe he could bluff his way
past

"You mean you don't know?" The General began to eye Shade suspiciously, rubbing his chin with the same hand in which he held the envelope. The envelope which still had Will somewhere inside of it. "Say, that's a trenchcoat you're wearing isn't it?" Shade's bluff did not appear to be working. It was time for a new tactic.

"Why did my letter not get sent to the Universal Office? YOU took the
letter from the US Postal system DIDN'T you? This is a serious federal offense! I'll have you brought up on charges, and see where you are then, Post-Masters. Out of a job, at the very least, I'm sure." Shade
struggled to keep a straight face as he rattled this off.

The General was getting notably flustered. "That IS a trenchcoat! You're
one of the guys responsible for my master's destruction!" The boning
knife was now waving accusingly in Shade's general direction. "I already
AM out of a job thanks to you guys. I found you on your way to the dead
letter office. I should have left you to rot, but I thought you might be important, addressed to the office and all. But you're not, at least not
in the way I thought. I'll kill you, and then you'll at least be worth something to the eco-system!" Post-Masters lunged at Shade, swinging his
knife hand around with full-force at Shade.

During the time it had taken General Post-Masters to rant, Shade had
placed a spatial warp around himself. The result was the General plodding
into a counter-top and the knife embedding itself in the microwave.

"I really don't want to fight, and you don't want me to have to hurt you."

Shade turned to face the General.

"You're nothing but a long-haired freak in a funked-out trenchcoat who
probably has never worked an honest day in his life. You don't scare me."

Post-Masters braced himself against the counter top, crumpling the
envelope in his fist.

"HEY! Be careful with that envelope!" Shade said, visions of Will
Watson's mangled body filling his mind.

"What, this? You want this? It's important to you, some stupid little envelope. Well the Universal Office was important to me, and you
destroyed it. All of you trenchcoated freaks with a wrinkle's sense for
order. You want destruction? Disorder? I'll give it to you. This
envelope is so important to you? Gone!" The General forced the envelope
into his mouth, and began chewing it. He was now laughing quite
erratically and tears trickled down his face. Shade would have turned his
face away from the pathetic spectacle, except that his worry over Will
kept him transfixed on the envelope.

Shade pinned the General against the counter, wedging his mouth open with
a hollow cylinder. Shade grabbed the envelope out, and quickly opened it.

Searching inside of the envelope with the power of the Surge Stream, Shade located Will and redefined his space as outside the envelope, praying to
gods he had never known for the young boy's safety.

Will lay on the green tiled floor of General Post-Masters' kitchen,
battered and unmoving. Shade barely noticed the General as the constructs pinning him to the counter squeezed the breath relentlessly from his
lungs. No, Shade saw only the limp form of a boy who had trusted him to
keep him safe.

As the General blacked out, Shade reached deep within himself and focused
on his Surge Stream energy. He opened himself as a portal for the Stream, directing its flow into the body of Will Watson. If the General were
still conscious, he would have seen lights of colors only dreamed of spill
from Shade into Will like a faucet turned on full.

After a full minute, Shade finally turned the flow of the Surge Stream
off, and leaned breathlessly against the refrigerator. He watched Will's
body expectantly for any signs of movement. Before long, Shade noticed
that Will was taking slow shallow breaths. Shade sighed deeply in a
release of a thousand tensions.

He stumbled over to Will, picked him up, and walked out of the General's
house. It was late in the evening, the western horizon glowing with
orange. He didn't know where he was, in some suburb somewhere, although
he really did not care. All that mattered was that it was all over for
now.

The office was gone, and he had almost caused the death of an innocent.
He didn't care what the other trenchcoaters thought. He couldn't just
endanger people, and the death of a bystander means something. It was a responsibility, and one that he did not want just now. He was glad that
the office was stopped, and glad that Will was alive, but he did not want
to deal with any of it right now. So he just kept on walking. He knew
that, soon enough, the Surge Stream would pull him somewhere that strange things were happening, and he would deal with them whether or not he
really wanted to; it was somehow his duty, although nobody was paying him.

For now, though, it was time for Shade and Will to rest.

*******************************************************************************

Dr 13 and Toni trudged homewards. 13 was feeling relatively merry as he had drunk around 7 pints of bitter. Toni was moaning as he collided with the odd lamp post.
"I'm glad thats all over. I think I'll sing something." said 13.
"No you bloody well won't." said Toni.
"What's wrong with my singing. I reknown for it, I am."
"More like infamous."
"You are just in a bad mood because you're dead and incarnated in a dirty trenchcoat."
"Huh. I demand to be washed, it is my right."
"We will see."
"Go on. Please. I promise I'll be nice."
"OK then, anything for peace and quiet. It will have to wait until tommorow though."
The pair finally reached home where 13 entered through his newly pink back door.

The next morning 13 awoke with a hangover and went downstairs to get some
water and paracetemol. After swallowing a couple he decided to check the
post.
There were a few bills, unfortunately these were real, and not created by
the
office.
"Bloody bureaucracy will get you every time." said 13.
Under the bottom of the pile was a small brown envelope. 13 opened it.
Inside was a small piece of wood with a lyre carved on it. 13 dropped the envelope with a strangled sound.
After a minute or so he regained his composure and picked it up again.
There was a note inside. He read it slowly.
"Remember us? I do. It isn't over yet. What happened before was just the
start.
You had help before, this time it is just you and me. I will wake them,
they will be my servants, from there 'tis but a step 'til the outer realms
will
be consumed. Let us play the game once more. "
It was signed Vivian.

"Psychotic, vindictive ex-girlfriends who are half fay and have incredibly powerful magic powers, don't you just love them?" said 13 to himself.
He then shakily put Toni to wash and settled down with a book.

Later, when Toni was clean and dry he took her off the line.
"What now" said Toni. "I was enjoying the sun."
"We are off to Sherwood Forest to stop my ex girlfriend from waking the wild hunt and destroying the realms of faerie."
"Oh." said Toni. "I thought it would be something important."

*******************************************************************************

Kid Anarky had finally had enough, so he left the bottle of vodka
behind, and stumbled his way out. The NTB didn`t really notice him, and he didn`t really care, so he got out of the bar and found his way out of alt.cynosure as fast as possible, finding his way to LNHHQ by a method of navigation that was inherently untrustworthy. What a day. What a bloody
awful
day. He found LNHHQ, which hadn`t moved recently, despite all the rumours,
and wandered in past the receptionist. "Oh, Kid Anarky..." she said in a way that reminded him rather strongly of some of the receptionists he`d met in
the
office. He pulled himself to a halt, defying momentum to do anything about
it, and sighed.
"Yes?"
"Ultimate Ninja would like a word."
"Fine. Tell him to wake me up in ten hours." He went off.
"But..." The receptionist found she was talking to empty air, an
occurence which happened rather too often in this job, especially when Invisible Incendiary was supposedly around. "Hmph."
Kid Anarky went to his room, ignoring the sounds of what could only be
Ultimate Ninja tearing an ex-office to pieces with the most potent weaponry
to
hand, and collapsed on the bed, falling unconscious immediately and
forgetting
even the pink trenchcoat as he slept through another bright day of LNH insanity. One thing was sure. That was the last time he messed around with
the
Net Trenchcoat Brigade..

*******************************************************************************

It was late, but that didn`t really mean anything, either because time
was a ragged concept in alt.cynosure or because GrimSloth had acheived his ambition for the day and was thus very, very drunk. The last couple of
NTBers
shuffled out the door, and Elric tried to say something polite.
"'Bye, Grim. Sorry-" he stumbled over his words, which seemed
determined to be obstructive, "-sorry for that thing in She- Chicago..." He hiccuped and stumbled out, half carried by Withnail and half carried by
sheer
force of drunken mobility. The door slammed behind them. GrimSloth let his
head collapse onto a beer-sodden table and snored to see what it was like. After he got tired of the smell of beer fermenting in his nostrils, he
dragged
himself over to the bar to find out how much alcohol was left. The bar was dark, the floor was wet, and he was having difficulty in walking anyway, and
so it took him some time to work his way across. He lurched under the
entrance
to the bar and started counting bottles. One... Two... Three... Hic! Lost count...
He gave up. It could wait until the hangover. Or until Martin came in.
Yeah, that was it. Delegation. Secret of being in charge. Sort of thing.
Yeah.
Right.
A source of light passed the window, and the darkness moved aside for
it as it ran over the room, passing smoothly over the tables, chairs, floor, and everything else, giving new, temporary colours in it`s sweep, and
entering
Grim`s eyes in a way he found intrusive. It passed, and darkness fell again. Grim grabbed a bottle, spent a few minutes opening it, and swigged from it.
He couldn`t taste what it was, and he certainly couldn`t read the label, but
it made him feel a little better, though a little less steadier. He pulled himself into a vaguely upright position, and carried himself and the bottle over to a window, pausing to use tables against gravity. He grabbed the cord
of a blind and collapsed. The blind went up, and he pulled himself to his
knees to look out. Buildings. Smog. Little car thingies zipping about in the sky. Great orange flares leaping into the smog from the tops of skyscrapers. Far off, two giant pyramid-like structures dominated the landscape and
accepted the hovering gnats into their bulk. Someone turned on a synthesizer and started playing a Vangelis tune. The landscape reflected in Grim`s bloodshot eye.
Alt.cynosure was having a Bladerunner kind of day.
Grim drank for a while, and stopped when his stomach started to hurt.
He looked out again at someone`s vision of a future city, and listened to
the
mournful tones of the music. He wondered about a few things. Like where
Janice
was. Like why Burak Racey had come for him first. But it could wait until sobriety. Another car passed by and did the trick with the lights again.
"End
film," he said, trying hard not to slur. "Roll creditsss..." He slumped down against the window and dozed into a dreamful rest. The bottle fell out of
his
hand and rolled across the floor, slurping out a wine bottled centuries
before
by Dom Perignon over the tiles into a wide puddle that Martin would swish
out the door when he arrived, on the next morning after the night before.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

by a_condon@unhh.unh.edu
tara@uxa.cso.uiuc.edu
enubf@csv.warwick.ac.uk
pcxsws@unicorn.nott.ac.uk
danl@wam.umd.edu




A N A P O C R Y P H A L T A L E --------------------------------------------------


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Hi. I originally thought of this story waaay back when the NTB was
starting out. You know, when LJC started it, and ex-Kit tried to take
charge? I planned to actually write it after WotA finally finished.

Well, that was a brilliant plan.

Since no NTB chapters have appeared recently, I figured I'd whip this
sucker out. And, since Elric is still stuck in that WotA thing, I figured
I'd have a tie-in to the Office (look, I haven't gotten much sleep, OK?
Come to think of it, I've never written a story after a good night's
sleep...). So, in keeping with that Office tradition, I give you ...



Wrath of the Incharger

It was birthed by the power of Constantine, and slowly fed from her power.
It
gave to her dark fantasies of power. And it rested.

It awakened with the Brigade, a dark counterpoint to the Trenchcoats'
magical melody. It drank from their energies, and gave to them dreams of
glory. And it was satisfied.

Its satiated lifestyle abruptly ended, however. Its demands and needs had alienated it from its host; Constantine rejected its power. And it knew
pain and lost for the first time.

It sought out a new host; one close the Constantine. It grew in power
as the Brigade began to take shape; and it maneuvered its host to the head
of the organization. And it bided its time, waiting to strike back at the Constantine.

But its new host tired quickly. It began to lose control, and yet again it
was banished from its place of power. And the ex-Kit went on with his now-normal life.

It now was beyond anger; it was incredibly pissed. This time it sought out
a darker host; one without the morals of Constantine. One with no life whatsoever. And it found not one, but two; Withnail and Bacchus.

Its new hosts welcomed its dark commands. They began to control the
Brigade, to funnel its power. And it gained in strength.

Finally, it was time; time to destroy those who had hurt it. It started by trying to ban the NTB from the Net, starting with their home. It possessed
a simple NetUser and publicly attacked them on r.a.c.m. Its hatred
manifested itself in words directed at the heart of the NTB. But they
proved to strong. With the help of the LNH, they defeated its host. And it screamed.

WHY DO YOU ATTACK THEM SO HAPHAZARDLY?

It sensed a presence; a presence with power beyond its greatest
imaginings. _They_hurt_me;_I_must_destroy_them._

WHAT ARE YOU CALLED, LITTLE ONE?

_I_am_the_Incharger_

WHAT A STUPID NAME. BUT THEN, I AM CALLED THE UNIVERSAL OFFICE. BUT THAT
IS NOT IMPORTANT. I, TOO, SEEK THE DESTRUCTION OF THE NTB; THEY ALONE CAN
STOP MY PLANS. JOIN ME AND DO MY EVIL BIDDING, AND WE WILL ANNIHILATE THEM FOREVER!

_Will_I_gain_great_power?_

SURE, WHAT THE HELL.

_Then_I_am_with_you_

BWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!
_Bwah_ha_ha_ha_ha_ha_ha_ha_ha_ha!!!_

Well, that's my story. So where's yours? Someone good better write
something, or I swear, I'll write again. This is not a threat. I mean it!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

by tong@soda.berkeley.edu
--
And these are the words of a supposedly literate student of
English Literature at the University of Warwick... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Paul Hardy/enubf@csv.warwick.ac.uk/Willoughby Withnail or Bacchus of the
N.T.B.



==========

Next Week: Hmm. What next -- I think as I take another drag from my
cigarette on my ash covered floor as the shadows of
venetian blinds slice at my face. What next. And then
all of a sudden a hand yanks away my ciggie! And I see
a bunch of bulked up freaks in spandex -- one of whom
wags his finger at me as he says, 'Smoking is very bad
for you! You should be doing steroids instead!' And
I nod my head and think to myself -- probably should take
a Labor Day Break! See you in Two (or Three or possibly
Four)!!


==========

Arthur "Same Classic Channel. But Same Time? Probably not." Spitzer

--0000000000001e265c063d22faba
Content-Type: text/html; charset="UTF-8"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable

<div dir=3D"ltr">And we&#39;re back in the past and can check the eyrie arc= hive <br>once again.<br><br><br>Here&#39;s where you can find this and more=
NTB One Shots:<br><br><a href=3D"https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/ntb/One.S= hots/">https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/ntb/One.Shots/</a><br><br><br><br>An=
d it&#39;s the last part of The Wrath of The Administrator.<br>Epilogue by = Various.<br>And An Apocryphal Tale by Christopher &quot;Elric&quot; Tong<br= ><br><br>And with The Office finally defeated can all our heroes<br>go back=
to doing what they do best (like using their<br>friends as human shields, = exorcisms that go horribly<br>wrong, giving people second hand lung cancer)= ?!<br><br>Or is their still some UNFINISHED BUSINESS?!!!!!!!<br><br><br>Fin=
d out in...<br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0C L A S S=
I C<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 N E T =C2=A0T R E N C H C O A T =C2=A0B R I G A D E<br><br>=C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 A D V E N T U R E S =C2=A0#385<br><br><br><= br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 W R A T H =C2=A0O F = =C2=A0T H E =C2=A0A D M I N I S T R A T O R<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2= =A0The Epilogue<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 <br><br><br><br><br><br><br>A= rticle 1459 of alt.comics.lnh:<br>Path: warwick!warwick!not-for-mail<br>Fro=
m: <a href=3D"mailto:enubf@csv.warwick.ac.uk">enubf@csv.warwick.ac.uk</a> (=
Mr P R Hardy)<br>Newsgroups: alt.comics.lnh,rec.arts.comics.misc<br>Subject=
: NTB: Wrath of the Administrator TEB Epilogue<br>Date: 3 Jun 1993 16:52:08=
+0100<br>Organization: Computing Services, University of Warwick, UK<br>Li= nes: 613<br>Distribution: world<br>Message-ID: &lt;<a href=3D"mailto:1ul6n8= INNg21@cumin.csv.warwick.ac.uk">1ul6n8INNg21@cumin.csv.warwick.ac.uk</a>&gt= ;<br>NNTP-Posting-Host: <a href=3D"http://cumin.csv.warwick.ac.uk">cumin.cs= v.warwick.ac.uk</a><br>Xref: warwick alt.comics.lnh:1459 rec.arts.comics.mi= sc:26326<br><br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0=
=C2=A0 =C2=A0N E T =C2=A0T R E N C H C O A T =C2=A0B R I G A D E<br>=C2=A0=
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &lt;*&gt; =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 <br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 W R A T H =C2=A0O F =C2=A0T H E =C2= =A0A D M I N I S T R A T O R<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 ------------------------------------------------<br><br><br><=

=C2=A0 =C2=A0 E =C2=A0P =C2=A0I =C2=A0L =C2=A0O =C2=A0G =C2=A0U =C2=

=A0E<br> =C2=A0 =C2=A0 ----------------------<br><br><br>---------------=
----------------------------------------------------------------<br><br>=C2= =A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 It was morning in alt.cynosure. Sweet, cynical alt= .cynosure. Where the<br>Internet meets when it`s really depressed. The Net.= Trenchcoat.Brigade, more or<br>less intact after having been trapped in Chi= cago for some time, travelled<br>from the better-known networks to the lurc= hing back-alley that was <br>alt.cynosure, led by the erratic and annoyed G= rimSloth.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Free drinks,&quot; he moaned=
. He`d been moaning that for some time now.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = &quot;Cheer up. Could be worse,&quot; said John Constantine with a grin tha= t<br>suggested a certain cynical enjoyment of the situation. &quot;Could be=
two free<br>drinks.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Don`t even = talk about it! The last time I did free drinks...&quot; He <br>stopped, con= sidered, went on: &quot;I`ve never done free drinks! Can you imagine<br>wha=
t this is going to cost me?&quot; He stepped over time, kicked an unruly wa= ll,<br>and fished out his keys.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Do you=
always kick walls?&quot; asked Elric.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot= ;It isn`t a wall. Kick it yourself.&quot; Elric gingerly poked it. It<br>gr= owled at him sheepishly.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Ah. What was = that about free drinks?&quot;<br> GrimSloth grimaced, found the right key a=
nd thrust it into the lock of<br>Munden`s Bar. The door creaked open, and a=
n array of Trenchcoats wandered <br>inside, and started looking for the bes=
t parts of the bar to annoy Grim at.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;N=
o bloody staff... where are they?&quot; grumbled GrimSloth, and rushed<br>u= pstairs to see if any of them were on the premises. There were strange nois= es.<br>LJC found the lights and started taking chairs down from tables. Wit= hnail<br>surveyed the bar, but more importantly the pumps, lined up in doze= ns, each<br>with a familiar and heartwarming name.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 &quot;Bishop`s Finger... Old Original... Sarah Hughes` Mild... Old <= br>Peculier... christ, even Roger and Owt on tap... how the hell did he man= age <br>this? And why didn`t anyone tell me about it?&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Hmph. Have a look at the ciders,&quot; advised LJC.= <br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Or the brandies,&quot; said the Quest= ion.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Or the wines,&quot; added Bacchus= .<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Or the whiskies,&quot; said Mouse. G= rimSloth, after several<br>shouted curses could be heard from upstairs, cam=
e down.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;You`ll have to help yourselves=
. All the staff are asleep and I <br>couldn`t bribe any of them to come dow=
n and serve you.&quot; He grabbed a<br>bottle of Glenfiddich for himself. &= quot;Go on, have what you like. we`re still in<br>deep shit and I suppose s= ome lubricants`ll help us work out what to do.&quot; <br>Various people rai= ded the bar. Withnail emerged with a pint of Bishop`s Finger<br>and a bottl=
e of whisky of an age that had surprised even him. Kid Anarky<br>poured him= self a large glass of vodka, added some orange juice, and prepared<br>for a=
n easier way out of this situation. LJC found a dozen or so bottles of<br>r= are cider, as Bacchus extolled the virtues of half-a-dozen wines, most of<b= r>which were of finer pedigree than an average Royal family. Chairs and tab= les<br>were pulled together for a serious conference on deeply worrying mat= ters, <br>tables which were quickly piled high with enough alcohol to floor=
a bull<br>elephant on drugs. The Brigade seated themselves, and LJC groane=
d to herself<br>as she realised she was going to have to organise the bugge= rs.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Okay,&quot; She said, opening a bo= ttle of cider that had been in Taunton<br>only the week before. &quot;The U= niversal Office is still out there. We`ve still<br>got to do something abou=
t it.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Why us?&quot; asked Hob Ga= dling.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Because there`s no one else. Hi=
s friends&quot;- gesturing at Kid Anarky-<br>&quot;are probably as deep in = shit as anyone else. The fact that it`s still<br>going on means that all th=
e occult organisations are either subverted or have<br>failed to get anywhe= re. The rest of the NTB is probably lost.&quot; The drinkers<br>took this i=
n. They didn`t like it. But there didn`t seem to be much option.<br>=C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;So what can we do?&quot; asked Kid Anarky.<br>= =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;All sorts of things,&quot; said John Cons= tantine. &quot;We`ve got a lot of<br>power between us. But we`ve got to tak=
e out the centre of it- the office.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &q= uot;Fine, but where is it?&quot; asked Some Irish Guy.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2= =A0 =C2=A0 &quot;There`s your problem. As far as I know, it can be at any U= niversity<br>campus it likes,&quot; said Withnail.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 &quot;Damn. Pity Ramaj isn`t here. He knows about room dimensions.&q= uot; said<br>GrimSloth.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;So throwing in=
something we summoned won`t work. We have to know <br>where it is, first,&= quot; said LJC.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Might not work even th= en. We don`t know Hell`s position on all of<br>this.&quot; said Mouse.<br>= =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Bugger.&quot; Said Withnail, and drank de= eply. The door opened, and Dr. 13<br>entered cloaked in an attitude that be= spoke a certain smugness.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Hello, every= body. Sorry I couldn`t make it earlier.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 &quot;Where the sodding hell have you been?&quot; stormed Withnail.<br>= =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Oh, just ending all this mess and saving = the world. Who do you think<br>got rid of the administrator and found Xerox=
es to destroy the office? I`d<br>much rather have spent my time in a pub. M= ine`s a pint of bitter, GrimSloth.<br>I heard you were buying.&quot;<br>=C2= =A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;You- you- GIT!!!!&quot; shouted Withnail, ex= pressing the main feelings of<br>the trenchcoaters at this point. Faces glo= wered.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 LJC sighed, and considered drinking. = &quot;Go on, then. What`s the story?&quot;<br>13 grinned and started talkin= g.<br><br>*****************************************************************= **************<br><br> Time passed, in as strange a manner as it dared...<b= r><br>*********************************************************************= **********<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 The Question sullenly poured = himself another brandy.=C2=A0 His scowl was<br>nearly hidden in the shadows=
produced by his oversized fedora, but his tone<br>of voice was plain enoug=
h to those nearby. =C2=A0&quot;Perdition!=C2=A0 I was so close to<br>catchi=
ng up to him!=C2=A0 If they stayed in one place for more than ten minutes..= .&quot;<br>Withnail sighed.=C2=A0 He&#39;d heard this several times so far = that evening. <br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;If I were you,&quot; he=
started for the third time that night, &quot;I&#39;d have <br>sorted this = whole thing out ages ago.=C2=A0 What was it he took again?&quot; =C2=A0<br>= =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 The Question glared at him. =C2=A0&quot;The Eye=
of Abraham.=C2=A0 A scrying device. =C2=A0<br>Actually, a very powerful sc= rying device.=C2=A0 And I would have &#39;sorted it out&#39;<br>ages ago my=
own self had I been around to do so.=C2=A0 What does one have to do <br>ar= ound here to find some Chateau Noir &#39;46?&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 &quot;Ask.=C2=A0 GrimSlut&#39;s got a pretty good selection.=C2=A0 W= hat do you mean, off-<br>plane?=C2=A0 I didn&#39;t hear about it...&quot; W= ithnail reached behind the counter and <br>pulled out a dusty bottle. &quot= ;Still in its gold foil wrapping.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quo= t;THE NAME IS SLOTH!!! GRIM_SLOTH_!!=C2=A0 Does nobody get that right?&quot=
; came<br>from across the bar.=C2=A0 Withnail and the Question ignored it.<= br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Many thanks.=C2=A0 I was in Delirium&#= 39;s realm for a year or thereabouts. <br>One loses track of time rather ea= sily there--what with her sundial being broken<br>and everything.=C2=A0 I w=
as gaining insight.&quot; =C2=A0The Question poured a careful <br>glassful =
of the old wine. =C2=A0&quot;1846 was a very good year for the Noir vineyar= ds.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Say, could I have a hit of t= hat stuff?&quot; ThingFish asked, leaning over<br>and breathing heavily int=
o the Question&#39;s glass.=C2=A0 The Question winced and gave<br>the glass=
to him and turned slightly away.=C2=A0 ThingFish downed it in one gulp,<br= >belched mightily, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. =C2=A0&quot;Not bad=
, but I think<br>that Sam Adams is better.&quot; =C2=A0He wandered off to f= ind some used toothpicks. <br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Do you smel=
l chitlins?&quot; the Question asked.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;= Yes. Could you move your dog? He&#39;s lying on my feet and sort of <br>gro= wling,&quot; Withnail replied, shifting on his barstool.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Sid, move yourself or get small or something, huh?&quot=
; The dog-shaped<br>thing picked itself up and stood on its hind legs at th=
e bar.=C2=A0 Withnail slid <br>a whiskey down to him, which Obsidian lapped=
up in short order.=C2=A0 He then bit <br>down on the glass and swallowed i= t.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Anyway, I made my way to Chicago so=
that I could catch up with him,<br>and after running into Lady Johanna, an=
d getting tossed into the Adminiverse,<br>and losing track of everything, I=
look around...just about every single NTB&#39;er<br>lying around the bar a=
nd no Ramaj.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;I knew the last bit=
; I was there,&quot; put in Withnail. =C2=A0&quot;So why don&#39;t you<br>j= ust start looking for him again?=C2=A0 As I recall, you&#39;ve never had a = problem with<br>finding anything out... Bacchus, move your lazy arse off yo=
ur seat, will you?<br>You&#39;re in my way.&quot; =C2=A0Bacchus looked at h=
im and sat down more firmly on his <br>stool, conjuring a full pitcher of s= weet wine in front of him.=C2=A0 It drained <br>itself as Withnail glared a=
t him. =C2=A0&quot;Lazy pisshead.&quot; =C2=A0<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 &quot;I&#39;ve tried.=C2=A0 He&#39;s cloaked himself pretty damned well= .=C2=A0 He could only<br>do that if he&#39;d found...a...void...&quot; =C2= =A0the Question trailed off.=C2=A0 Nightshard was<br>pulling on him.=C2=A0 =
He glanced around to see Obsidian worrying Yo-Yo in the <br>corner. &quot;S= id...get over here now,&quot; he snapped.=C2=A0 Obsidian moved over, snappi=
ng <br>his white teeth at Yo-Yo as he did.=C2=A0 Nightshard was still pulli= ng, but it<br>didn&#39;t seem to know which way it wanted to go.=C2=A0 The = Question recognized the <br>possibility of imminent danger and decided to c= heck.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Your trenchcoat acting up?&quot;=
Dr. Thirteen asked, having seen it twitch<br>from where he had been sittin=
g. &quot;Mine&#39;s recently been annoying me, too.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;I resent that,&quot; interjected Toni. =C2=A0&quot;I&#3= 9;m very helpful to you because<br>you don&#39;t know squat about anything = and it&#39;s lucky for you that I joined into<br>your coat, because you&#39=
;d be dead or worse and I&#39;m still trying to get out of<br>this dumb thi= ng.=C2=A0 Brown is simply not my colour.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 &quot;See?=C2=A0 Just ignore it--that&#39;s what I&#39;m trying to do,&= quot; said Dr.<br>Thirteen, looking interestedly down at Obsidian. =C2=A0&q= uot;Is that a...&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;I think so, yes= .=C2=A0 Don&#39;t stand too close to it.=C2=A0 If you&#39;ll pardon me,<br>= Doctor, I&#39;m trying to divine what&#39;s wrong with Nightshard.=C2=A0 No=
one would happen<br>to have some blue crystalline salt, would they?=C2=A0 = I&#39;m fresh out.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;How about thi=
s stuff we use to clean liquids off the floor?=C2=A0 It&#39;s<br>some sort =
of salt, I think,&quot; said GrimSloth, rummaging below the counter and<br>= thumping a bag of it on the bar.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;That = should do nicely.=C2=A0 Thanks, GrimSloth.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 &quot;That&#39;s GrimS...uh.=C2=A0 Forget it.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0=
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 The Question poured a pile of the blue salt stuff on the bar=
and used<br>an ivory stiletto to stir it around. The patterns were unclear= .=C2=A0 He frowned.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Suddenly, the air shatte= red and the door flew open, to reveal a tall<br>man dressed in black. =C2= =A0&quot;Once, I would have sat amongst you and partaken in the<br>revelry,=
spoken at length on the horrors we face, but now I must remain...&quot;<br= >=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Everyone in the bar whirled around and finishe=
d, &quot;A STRANGER.=C2=A0 WE <br>KNOW!&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 The Dvandom Stranger sighed.=C2=A0 He almost never got to finish that l= ine.<br>&quot;I bring to you this evening...an ending--or perhaps a new beg= inning.=C2=A0 Many are<br>the paths that will be opened by tonight&#39;s ev= ents.=C2=A0 Beyond, possibly, even the<br>reaches of the Administrator&#39;=
s wrath.=C2=A0 But I cannot speak any further on this.<br>Instead, I shall = leave my unwilling travellers and depart once again, to walk<br>this sad .n=
et as...&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Yeah, yeah, as a strang= er.=C2=A0 Get a new spiel, for christ`s sake,&quot;<br>Withnail replied. &q= uot;So where&#39;s your passengers?=C2=A0 They might as well pull up a<br>c= hair.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 The Dvandom Stranger allowed him= self a slight smile.=C2=A0 It hurt a little,<br>and he decided not to try t= hat again anytime soon. =C2=A0&quot;They are...here.&quot; =C2=A0He<br>pull=
ed his trenchcoat aside to reveal Ramaj Singh, looking worried, and Deft,<b= r>looking vaguely at the walls and swinging Ol&#39; Bart absently.=C2=A0 Th=
e assembled NTB<br>turned as one to look at the Question. =C2=A0<br>=C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 He smiled slightly and drained his wineglass. =C2=A0&q= uot;Welcome to Munden&#39;s, <br>gentlemen.&quot; =C2=A0The Question crosse=
d the bar, Obsidian at his heels. =C2=A0&quot;GrimSloth, <br>would you have=
a quiet corner table--somewhere out of the way--where I could <br>have a l= ittle chat with my old friend Ramaj?&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 G= rimSloth pointed to one.=C2=A0 The Question walked Ramaj and Deft over to <= br>it.=C2=A0 Obsidian slunk over to the bar again and bit off the top of a = whiskey<br>bottle, then started to drink it awkwardly.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2= =A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Ramaj.=C2=A0 You&#39;re a tough person to find.=C2=A0 How&= #39;ve you been these past<br>couple of years?&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Little of this, little of that...you know how it goes,&quo=
t; replied<br>Ramaj.=C2=A0 He wasn&#39;t quite sure what the Question was u=
p to, but if _he_ wasn&#39;t<br>going to mention the Eye, he&#39;d be damne=
d if he was going to bring it up.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Yes,=
I think I do.=C2=A0 Who&#39;s your friend?&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 &quot;This is Deft.=C2=A0 He&#39;s sort of my partner.&quot;<br>=C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Splendid.=C2=A0 Now we&#39;ve gotten the nic= eties out of the way, we can get<br>down to business.=C2=A0 Where is the Ey= e?&quot; the Question hissed, flexing his gloved<br>knuckles.=C2=A0 Nightsh= ard shivered slightly.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;I haven&#39;t g=
ot it.=C2=A0 It was stolen.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Why = don&#39;t I believe you?=C2=A0 You&#39;re a professional liar and thief--on= e<br>would think that any good thief would know how to keep something from = being<br>stolen.=C2=A0 Especially something like the Eye.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Nonetheless, it was stolen.=C2=A0 It vanished fr=
om my void floor two-odd<br>years ago.=C2=A0 I&#39;m surprised that you wer= en&#39;t aware of it.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;I&#39;ve b= een busy,&quot; the Question snapped. =C2=A0&quot;And I still don&#39;t bel= ieve<br>you.=C2=A0 Who could have stolen it from a void?=C2=A0 No one who w= ould want it, that&#39;s<br>for sure.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = &quot;I was wondering that myself.=C2=A0 But I assure you, I haven&#39;t go=
t it.&quot; =C2=A0<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 The Question stood up. &q= uot;You wouldn&#39;t be stupid enough to bring it<br>everywhere with you, b=
ut you of course won&#39;t mind if I just check your pockets,<br>will you?= =C2=A0 I thought not.&quot; =C2=A0He hoisted Ramaj up by his lapels, out of=
his<br>seat, and reached in his trenchcoat pockets, dumping the contents o=
n the <br>table. =C2=A0&quot;A Rolodex...?=C2=A0 This is a whole lot more c= onvincing than you are, <br>actually.=C2=A0 So providing that I do believe = you--which I really don&#39;t think I <br>should--how do you propose to ret= urn my property to me?&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Three can=
hunt for something as easily as one,&quot; Ramaj started.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0=
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;And more efficiently, too,&quot; put in Deft.<br>=C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Yes, more efficiently, too.=C2=A0 Perhaps we=
could help you search for it?<br>It would, perhaps, in some small way, rec= ompensence for borrowing it from you<br>in the first place?&quot;<br>=C2=A0=
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Stealing it, you mean.=C2=A0 I could be doing w= orse things with my time--<br>such as looking for you again.=C2=A0 So where=
do we start?&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;I was hoping you w= ould ask that.=C2=A0 How about at the scene of the crime:<br>San Fransisco?= &quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;At your expense, sure.=C2=A0 I&= #39;ve not got enough cash on me to bribe Sid&#39;s<br>way onto another air= plane.=C2=A0 And Ramaj...?&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;What?= &quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;If this turns out to be some so=
rt of con, they won&#39;t be able to find<br>enough of you to fill an ashtr= ay.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;Not to worry, Question.&quot= ;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &quot;I think I&#39;d prefer it if you wer=
e worried, Ramaj.=C2=A0 Come on, Obsidian,<br>we&#39;re headed to San Frans= isco--first class.&quot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 The four exited the=
bar, leaving the rest of the NTB slightly confused<br>in their wake...<br>= <br>***********************************************************************= ********<br><br>Thingfish noticed LJC sitting at a corner table already lit= tered<br>with empty bottles.=C2=A0 She looked up and glared at him, and he = jumped back,<br>wary.=C2=A0 Then she began to laugh.<br><br>&quot;I&#39;m g= oing to be leaving now.&quot; =C2=A0She announced to the rest of Mundens, w= ho<br>stopped their conversations just long enough to see the *very* drunk<= br>Constantine manage to nick three bottles from the table.=C2=A0 The sound= <br>of breaking glass was very loud in the sudden silence. =C2=A0&quot;Y&#3= 9;see,&quot; she took<br>a swig from a half-empty cider bottle, &quot;Kit&#= 39;s an ex-Kit now, and I don&#39;t<br>think I&#39;ll be seeing him for a w= hile...&quot; =C2=A0She picked up the trenchcoat<br>from where it lay at th=
e foot of the coatrack. =C2=A0&quot;I think it&#39;s about<br>time I got ou=
t of Chicago anyway.&quot;<br><br>&quot;You&#39;re all bloody bastards.&quo=
t; =C2=A0She called from the doorway, <br>laughing again. =C2=A0&quot;Whole=
NTB was a bad idea....&quot; =C2=A0she stumbled down the<br>street, and th=
e rest of the trenchcoaters shrugged, and continued with<br>their respectiv=
e arguments and discussions.<br><br>LJ decided, as she made her way towards=
Callahans (she still wasn&#39;t<br>finished drinking.=C2=A0 She could stil=
l stand.=C2=A0 That was a sure sign there<br>was more drinking to be done.)=
that maybe she would pay a visit to old<br>Charles in Andover.=C2=A0 Nothi=
ng bad ever happened there.=C2=A0 Maybe she could<br>take an old-fashioned = holiday.=C2=A0 No &#39;coats.=C2=A0 No magic.=C2=A0 Lots of drink.<br>That = was beginning to sound like a very good ldea....<br><br>After all, the Offi=
ce and all were taken care of, what could go wrong<br>*now*? <br><br>******= *************************************************************************<b= r><br>A jagged streak of blinding white tore through the darkness after an = =C2=A0<br>eternity of nothing.=C2=A0 Shade felt himself falling sideways-up=
, or at least =C2=A0<br>that is what it seemed like, as he had long since l= ost all sense of =C2=A0<br>direction.=C2=A0 The floor was hard and cold as =
it raced to greet his face, and =C2=A0<br>the whole room swirled about.=C2=
=A0 Focus returned to Shade like the snap of =C2=A0<br>the hangman&#39;s no= ose.<br><br>He did not seem to be in any office, universal or otherwise.=C2= =A0 He was, in =C2=A0<br>fact, on the floor of somebody&#39;s kitchen.=C2=
=A0 At least, it looked like a =C2=A0<br>kitchen; there was the refrigerato=
r, the oven, the dishwasher, the =C2=A0<br>confused-looking man holding a b= oning knife in one hand and an envelope in =C2=A0<br>the other, the dishwas= her, and the cabinets.=C2=A0 Oh yeah, and the sink; I =C2=A0<br>almost forg=
ot to through in the kitchen sink.<br><br>&quot;Who the HELL are YOU?&quot;=
=C2=A0The kitchen man pointed an inquisitive knife in =C2=A0<br>Shade&#39;=
s direction.<br><br>Shade looked bemused at the man, who reared to an impos= ing five-foot-six, =C2=A0<br>his white Fruit-of-the-Loom undershirt straini=
ng against the bulging =C2=A0<br>stains under his arms. =C2=A0&quot;Shade.= =C2=A0 And, uh, who are YOU?&quot; =C2=A0Shade swung his =C2=A0<br>legs und=
er him and began to stand up.<br><br>&quot;I&#39;m General Post-Masters, du= tiful ally of the Netromancer, comrade of =C2=A0<br>Burak-Racey, brother-in= -arms to Muzak Master, answerable only to the =C2=A0<br>Universal Office it= self!&quot; =C2=A0Gen. PM snapped his heals together and came to =C2=A0<br>= rigid attention.<br><br>&quot;Great!=C2=A0 I need to see the Universal Offi= ce.=C2=A0 It&#39;s a matter of some =C2=A0<br>urgency.=C2=A0 I have some fo= rms which need its immediate approval&quot; =C2=A0Shade was =C2=A0<br>now o=
n his feet dusting off his trenchcoat.=C2=A0 Maybe he could bluff his way = =C2=A0<br>past <br><br>&quot;You mean you don&#39;t know?&quot; =C2=A0The G= eneral began to eye Shade suspiciously, =C2=A0<br>rubbing his chin with the=
same hand in which he held the envelope.=C2=A0 The =C2=A0<br>envelope whic=
h still had Will somewhere inside of it. =C2=A0&quot;Say, that&#39;s a =C2= =A0<br>trenchcoat you&#39;re wearing isn&#39;t it?&quot; =C2=A0Shade&#39;s = bluff did not appear to be =C2=A0<br>working.=C2=A0 It was time for a new t= actic.<br><br>&quot;Why did my letter not get sent to the Universal Office?= =C2=A0 YOU took the =C2=A0<br>letter from the US Postal system DIDN&#39;T y= ou?=C2=A0 This is a serious federal =C2=A0<br>offense!=C2=A0 I&#39;ll have = you brought up on charges, and see where you are then, =C2=A0<br>Post-Maste= rs.=C2=A0 Out of a job, at the very least, I&#39;m sure.&quot; =C2=A0Shade = =C2=A0<br>struggled to keep a straight face as he rattled this off.<br><br>= The General was getting notably flustered. =C2=A0&quot;That IS a trenchcoat= !=C2=A0 You&#39;re =C2=A0<br>one of the guys responsible for my master&#39;=
s destruction!&quot; =C2=A0The boning =C2=A0<br>knife was now waving accusi= ngly in Shade&#39;s general direction. =C2=A0&quot;I already =C2=A0<br>AM o=
ut of a job thanks to you guys.=C2=A0 I found you on your way to the dead = =C2=A0<br>letter office.=C2=A0 I should have left you to rot, but I thought=
you might be =C2=A0<br>important, addressed to the office and all.=C2=A0 B=
ut you&#39;re not, at least not =C2=A0<br>in the way I thought.=C2=A0 I&#39= ;ll kill you, and then you&#39;ll at least be worth =C2=A0<br>something to = the eco-system!&quot; =C2=A0Post-Masters lunged at Shade, swinging his =C2= =A0<br>knife hand around with full-force at Shade.<br><br>During the time i=
t had taken General Post-Masters to rant, Shade had =C2=A0<br>placed a spat= ial warp around himself.=C2=A0 The result was the General plodding =C2=A0<b= r>into a counter-top and the knife embedding itself in the microwave.<br><b= r>&quot;I really don&#39;t want to fight, and you don&#39;t want me to have=
to hurt you.&quot; =C2=A0 <br>Shade turned to face the General.<br><br>&qu= ot;You&#39;re nothing but a long-haired freak in a funked-out trenchcoat wh=
o =C2=A0<br>probably has never worked an honest day in his life.=C2=A0 You = don&#39;t scare me.&quot; =C2=A0 <br>Post-Masters braced himself against th=
e counter top, crumpling the =C2=A0<br>envelope in his fist.<br><br>&quot;H= EY!=C2=A0 Be careful with that envelope!&quot; =C2=A0Shade said, visions of=
Will =C2=A0<br>Watson&#39;s mangled body filling his mind.<br><br>&quot;Wh= at, this?=C2=A0 You want this?=C2=A0 It&#39;s important to you, some stupid=
little =C2=A0<br>envelope.=C2=A0 Well the Universal Office was important t=
o me, and you =C2=A0<br>destroyed it.=C2=A0 All of you trenchcoated freaks = with a wrinkle&#39;s sense for =C2=A0<br>order.=C2=A0 You want destruction?=
Disorder? I&#39;ll give it to you.=C2=A0 This =C2=A0<br>envelope is so imp= ortant to you?=C2=A0 Gone!&quot; =C2=A0The General forced the envelope =C2= =A0<br>into his mouth, and began chewing it.=C2=A0 He was now laughing quit=
e =C2=A0<br>erratically and tears trickled down his face.=C2=A0 Shade would=
have turned his =C2=A0<br>face away from the pathetic spectacle, except th=
at his worry over Will =C2=A0<br>kept him transfixed on the envelope.<br><b= r>Shade pinned the General against the counter, wedging his mouth open with=
=C2=A0<br>a hollow cylinder.=C2=A0 Shade grabbed the envelope out, and qui= ckly opened it. =C2=A0 <br>Searching inside of the envelope with the power =
of the Surge Stream, Shade =C2=A0<br>located Will and redefined his space a=
s outside the envelope, praying to =C2=A0<br>gods he had never known for th=
e young boy&#39;s safety.<br><br>Will lay on the green tiled floor of Gener=
al Post-Masters&#39; kitchen, =C2=A0<br>battered and unmoving.=C2=A0 Shade = barely noticed the General as the constructs =C2=A0<br>pinning him to the c= ounter squeezed the breath relentlessly from his =C2=A0<br>lungs.=C2=A0 No,=
Shade saw only the limp form of a boy who had trusted him to =C2=A0<br>kee=
p him safe.<br><br>As the General blacked out, Shade reached deep within hi= mself and focused =C2=A0<br>on his Surge Stream energy.=C2=A0 He opened him= self as a portal for the Stream, =C2=A0<br>directing its flow into the body=
of Will Watson.=C2=A0 If the General were =C2=A0<br>still conscious, he wo= uld have seen lights of colors only dreamed of spill =C2=A0<br>from Shade i= nto Will like a faucet turned on full.<br><br>After a full minute, Shade fi= nally turned the flow of the Surge Stream =C2=A0<br>off, and leaned breathl= essly against the refrigerator.=C2=A0 He watched Will&#39;s =C2=A0<br>body = expectantly for any signs of movement.=C2=A0 Before long, Shade noticed =C2= =A0<br>that Will was taking slow shallow breaths.=C2=A0 Shade sighed deeply=
in a =C2=A0<br>release of a thousand tensions.<br><br>He stumbled over to = Will, picked him up, and walked out of the General&#39;s =C2=A0<br>house. = =C2=A0 =C2=A0It was late in the evening, the western horizon glowing with = =C2=A0<br>orange.=C2=A0 He didn&#39;t know where he was, in some suburb som= ewhere, although =C2=A0<br>he really did not care.=C2=A0 All that mattered = was that it was all over for =C2=A0<br>now.<br><br>The office was gone, and=
he had almost caused the death of an innocent. =C2=A0 <br>He didn&#39;t ca=
re what the other trenchcoaters thought.=C2=A0 He couldn&#39;t just =C2=A0<= br>endanger people, and the death of a bystander means something.=C2=A0 It = was a =C2=A0<br>responsibility, and one that he did not want just now.=C2=
=A0 He was glad that =C2=A0<br>the office was stopped, and glad that Will w=
as alive, but he did not want =C2=A0<br>to deal with any of it right now.= =C2=A0 So he just kept on walking.=C2=A0 He knew =C2=A0<br>that, soon enoug=
h, the Surge Stream would pull him somewhere that strange =C2=A0<br>things = were happening, and he would deal with them whether or not he =C2=A0<br>rea= lly wanted to; it was somehow his duty, although nobody was paying him. =C2= =A0 <br>For now, though, it was time for Shade and Will to rest.<br><br>***= ***************************************************************************= *<br><br>Dr 13 and Toni trudged homewards. 13 was feeling relatively merry =
as he had<br>drunk around 7 pints of bitter. Toni was moaning as he collide=
d with the odd<br>lamp post.<br>&quot;I&#39;m glad thats all over. I think = I&#39;ll sing something.&quot; said 13.<br>&quot;No you bloody well won&#39= ;t.&quot; said Toni.<br>&quot;What&#39;s wrong with my singing. I reknown f=
or it, I am.&quot;<br>&quot;More like infamous.&quot;<br>&quot;You are just=
in a bad mood because you&#39;re dead and incarnated in a dirty<br>trenchc= oat.&quot;<br>&quot;Huh. I demand to be washed, it is my right.&quot;<br>&q= uot;We will see.&quot;<br>&quot;Go on. Please. I promise I&#39;ll be nice.&= quot;<br>&quot;OK then, anything for peace and quiet. It will have to wait = until tommorow<br>though.&quot;<br>The pair finally reached home where 13 e= ntered through his newly pink back <br>door.<br><br>The next morning 13 awo=
ke with a hangover and went downstairs to get some<br>water and paracetemol=
. After swallowing a couple he decided to check the post.<br>There were a f=
ew bills, unfortunately these were real, and not created by the<br>office.<= br>&quot;Bloody bureaucracy will get you every time.&quot; said 13.<br>Unde=
r the bottom of the pile was a small brown envelope. 13 opened it.<br>Insid=
e was a small piece of wood with a lyre carved on it. 13 dropped the<br>env= elope with a strangled sound.<br>After a minute or so he regained his compo= sure and picked it up again.<br>There was a note inside. He read it slowly.= <br>&quot;Remember us? I do. It isn&#39;t over yet. What happened before wa=
s just the start.<br>You had help before, this time it is just you and me. =
I will wake them,<br>they will be my servants, from there &#39;tis but a st=
ep &#39;til the outer realms will<br>be consumed. Let us play the game once=
more. &quot;<br>It was signed Vivian.<br><br>&quot;Psychotic, vindictive e= x-girlfriends who are half fay and have incredibly<br>powerful magic powers=
, don&#39;t you just love them?&quot; said 13 to himself.<br>He then shakil=
y put Toni to wash and settled down with a book.<br><br>Later, when Toni wa=
s clean and dry he took her off the line.<br>&quot;What now&quot; said Toni=
. &quot;I was enjoying the sun.&quot;<br>&quot;We are off to Sherwood Fores=
t to stop my ex girlfriend from waking the wild<br>hunt and destroying the = realms of faerie.&quot;<br>&quot;Oh.&quot; said Toni. &quot;I thought it wo= uld be something important.&quot;<br><br>**********************************= *********************************************<br><br> Kid Anarky had finall= y had enough, so he left the bottle of vodka<br>behind, and stumbled his wa=
y out. The NTB didn`t really notice him, and he<br>didn`t really care, so h=
e got out of the bar and found his way out of <br>alt.cynosure as fast as p= ossible, finding his way to LNHHQ by a method of<br>navigation that was inh= erently untrustworthy. What a day. What a bloody awful<br>day. He found LNH= HQ, which hadn`t moved recently, despite all the rumours,<br>and wandered i=
n past the receptionist. &quot;Oh, Kid Anarky...&quot; she said in a way<br= >that reminded him rather strongly of some of the receptionists he`d met in=
the<br>office. He pulled himself to a halt, defying momentum to do anythin=
g about<br>it, and sighed.<br> &quot;Yes?&quot;<br> &quot;Ultimate Ninja wo=
uld like a word.&quot;<br> &quot;Fine. Tell him to wake me up in ten hours.=
&quot; He went off.<br> &quot;But...&quot; The receptionist found she was t= alking to empty air, an<br>occurence which happened rather too often in thi=
s job, especially when <br>Invisible Incendiary was supposedly around. &quo= t;Hmph.&quot;<br> Kid Anarky went to his room, ignoring the sounds of what =
could only be<br>Ultimate Ninja tearing an ex-office to pieces with the mos=
t potent weaponry to<br>hand, and collapsed on the bed, falling unconscious=
immediately and forgetting<br>even the pink trenchcoat as he slept through=
another bright day of LNH <br>insanity. One thing was sure. That was the l= ast time he messed around with the<br>Net Trenchcoat Brigade..<br><br>*****= **************************************************************************<= br><br> It was late, but that didn`t really mean anything, either because t= ime<br>was a ragged concept in alt.cynosure or because GrimSloth had acheiv=
ed his<br>ambition for the day and was thus very, very drunk. The last coup=
le of NTBers<br>shuffled out the door, and Elric tried to say something pol= ite.<br> &quot;&#39;Bye, Grim. Sorry-&quot; he stumbled over his words, whi=
ch seemed <br>determined to be obstructive, &quot;-sorry for that thing in = She- Chicago...&quot; He<br>hiccuped and stumbled out, half carried by With= nail and half carried by sheer<br>force of drunken mobility. The door slamm=
ed behind them. GrimSloth let his<br>head collapse onto a beer-sodden table=
and snored to see what it was like.<br>After he got tired of the smell of = beer fermenting in his nostrils, he dragged<br>himself over to the bar to f= ind out how much alcohol was left. The bar was <br>dark, the floor was wet,=
and he was having difficulty in walking anyway, and<br>so it took him some=
time to work his way across. He lurched under the entrance <br>to the bar = and started counting bottles. One... Two... Three... Hic! Lost <br>count...=
<br> He gave up. It could wait until the hangover. Or until Martin came in.=
<br>Yeah, that was it. Delegation. Secret of being in charge. Sort of thing=
. Yeah.<br>Right. <br> A source of light passed the window, and the darknes=
s moved aside for <br>it as it ran over the room, passing smoothly over the=
tables, chairs, floor,<br>and everything else, giving new, temporary colou=
rs in it`s sweep, and entering<br>Grim`s eyes in a way he found intrusive. =
It passed, and darkness fell again.<br>Grim grabbed a bottle, spent a few m= inutes opening it, and swigged from it.<br>He couldn`t taste what it was, a=
nd he certainly couldn`t read the label, but<br>it made him feel a little b= etter, though a little less steadier. He pulled<br>himself into a vaguely u= pright position, and carried himself and the bottle <br>over to a window, p= ausing to use tables against gravity. He grabbed the cord<br>of a blind and=
collapsed. The blind went up, and he pulled himself to his<br>knees to loo=
k out. Buildings. Smog. Little car thingies zipping about in the<br>sky. Gr= eat orange flares leaping into the smog from the tops of skyscrapers.<br>Fa=
r off, two giant pyramid-like structures dominated the landscape and<br>acc= epted the hovering gnats into their bulk. Someone turned on a synthesizer<b= r>and started playing a Vangelis tune. The landscape reflected in Grim`s<br= >bloodshot eye.<br> Alt.cynosure was having a Bladerunner kind of day.<br> =
Grim drank for a while, and stopped when his stomach started to hurt. <br>H=
e looked out again at someone`s vision of a future city, and listened to th= e<br>mournful tones of the music. He wondered about a few things. Like wher=
e Janice<br>was. Like why Burak Racey had come for him first. But it could = wait until<br>sobriety. Another car passed by and did the trick with the li= ghts again. &quot;End<br>film,&quot; he said, trying hard not to slur. &quo= t;Roll creditsss...&quot; He slumped down<br>against the window and dozed i= nto a dreamful rest. The bottle fell out of his<br>hand and rolled across t=
he floor, slurping out a wine bottled centuries before<br>by Dom Perignon o= ver the tiles into a wide puddle that Martin would swish<br>out the door wh=
en he arrived, on the next morning after the night before.<br><br>---------= ----------------------------------------------------------------------<br><= br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 by <a href=3D"mailto:a_condon@unhh.unh.edu">= a_condon@unhh.unh.edu</a><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0<a hr= ef=3D"mailto:tara@uxa.cso.uiuc.edu">tara@uxa.cso.uiuc.edu</a><br>=C2=A0 =C2= =A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0<a href=3D"mailto:enubf@csv.warwick.ac.uk">e= nubf@csv.warwick.ac.uk</a><br> =C2=A0 <a href=3D"mailto:pcxsws@unicorn.not= t.ac.uk">pcxsws@unicorn.nott.ac.uk</a><br> =C2=A0 <a href=3D"mailto:danl@w=
am.umd.edu">danl@wam.umd.edu</a> <br><br><br><br><br> A =C2=A0N =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0A =C2=A0P =C2=A0O =C2=A0C =C2=A0R =C2=A0Y =C2=A0P =C2=A0H =C2=A0A =C2=A0=
L =C2=A0 =C2=A0T =C2=A0A =C2=A0L =C2=A0E<br> -----------------------------=
---------------------<br><br><br>------------------------------------------= -------------------------------------<br><br><br>Hi. I originally thought o=
f this story waaay back when the NTB was<br>starting out. You know, when LJ=
C started it, and ex-Kit tried to take<br>charge? I planned to actually wri=
te it after WotA finally finished.<br><br>Well, that was a brilliant plan.<= br><br>Since no NTB chapters have appeared recently, I figured I&#39;d whip=
this<br>sucker out. And, since Elric is still stuck in that WotA thing, I = figured<br>I&#39;d have a tie-in to the Office (look, I haven&#39;t gotten = much sleep, OK?<br>Come to think of it, I&#39;ve never written a story afte=
r a good night&#39;s<br>sleep...). So, in keeping with that Office traditio=
n, I give you ...<br><br><br><br>Wrath of the Incharger<br><br>It was birth=
ed by the power of Constantine, and slowly fed from her power. It<br>gave t=
o her dark fantasies of power. And it rested.<br><br>It awakened with the B= rigade, a dark counterpoint to the Trenchcoats&#39;<br>magical melody. It d= rank from their energies, and gave to them dreams of<br>glory. And it was s= atisfied.<br><br>Its satiated lifestyle abruptly ended, however. Its demand=
s and needs had<br>alienated it from its host; Constantine rejected its pow= er. And it knew<br>pain and lost for the first time.<br><br>It sought out a=
new host; one close the Constantine. It grew in power<br>as the Brigade be= gan to take shape; and it maneuvered its host to the head<br>of the organiz= ation. And it bided its time, waiting to strike back at the<br>Constantine.= <br><br>But its new host tired quickly. It began to lose control, and yet a= gain it<br>was banished from its place of power. And the ex-Kit went on wit=
h his<br>now-normal life.<br><br>It now was beyond anger; it was incredibly=
pissed. This time it sought out<br>a darker host; one without the morals o=
f Constantine. One with no life<br>whatsoever. And it found not one, but tw=
o; Withnail and Bacchus.<br><br>Its new hosts welcomed its dark commands. T= hey began to control the<br>Brigade, to funnel its power. And it gained in = strength.<br><br>Finally, it was time; time to destroy those who had hurt i=
t. It started by<br>trying to ban the NTB from the Net, starting with their=
home. It possessed<br>a simple NetUser and publicly attacked them on r.a.c= .m. Its hatred<br>manifested itself in words directed at the heart of the N= TB. But they<br>proved to strong. With the help of the LNH, they defeated i=
ts host. And it<br>screamed.<br><br>WHY DO YOU ATTACK THEM SO HAPHAZARDLY?<= br><br>It sensed a presence; a presence with power beyond its greatest<br>i= maginings. _They_hurt_me;_I_must_destroy_them._<br><br>WHAT ARE YOU CALLED,=
LITTLE ONE?<br><br>_I_am_the_Incharger_<br><br>WHAT A STUPID NAME. BUT THE=
N, I AM CALLED THE UNIVERSAL OFFICE. BUT THAT<br>IS NOT IMPORTANT. I, TOO, = SEEK THE DESTRUCTION OF THE NTB; THEY ALONE CAN<br>STOP MY PLANS. JOIN ME A=
ND DO MY EVIL BIDDING, AND WE WILL ANNIHILATE THEM<br>FOREVER!<br><br>_Will= _I_gain_great_power?_<br><br>SURE, WHAT THE HELL.<br><br>_Then_I_am_with_yo= u_<br><br>BWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!<br>_Bwah_ha_ha_ha_ha_ha_ha_ha_= ha_ha!!!_<br><br>Well, that&#39;s my story. So where&#39;s yours? Someone g= ood better write<br>something, or I swear, I&#39;ll write again. This is no=
t a threat. I mean it!<br><br>---------------------------------------------= ----------------------------------<br><br> by <a href=3D"mailto:tong@soda.b=
erkeley.edu">tong@soda.berkeley.edu</a><br>-- <br> =C2=A0And these are the=
words of a supposedly literate student of<br> =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Englis=
h Literature at the University of Warwick...<br>---------------------------= ----------------------------------------------------<br>Paul Hardy/<a href= =3D"http://enubf@csv.warwick.ac.uk/Willoughby">enubf@csv.warwick.ac.uk/Will= oughby</a> Withnail or Bacchus of the N.T.B.<br><br><br><br>=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D<br><br>Next Week: =C2=A0Hmm.=C2=A0 What next -- I think as =
I take another drag from my<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 ci= garette on my ash covered floor as the shadows of <br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 venetian blinds slice at my face.=C2=A0 What next.=C2=
=A0 And then<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 all of a sudden a=
hand yanks away my ciggie!=C2=A0 And I see<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 a bunch of bulked up freaks in spandex -- one of whom<br>=C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 wags his finger at me as he says, &#= 39;Smoking is very bad<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 for you= !=C2=A0 You should be doing steroids instead!&#39; =C2=A0And<br>=C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 I nod my head and think to myself -- probab=
ly should take<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 a Labor Day Bre= ak!=C2=A0 See you in Two (or Three or possibly <br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2= =A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Four)!!<br><br><br>=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D<br><br>= Arthur &quot;Same Classic Channel.=C2=A0 But Same Time?=C2=A0 Probably not.= &quot; Spitzer <br><br><br><br></div>

--0000000000001e265c063d22faba--
--- Synchronet 3.21a-Linux NewsLink 1.2